


Burning Bridges

by LeafOfTrees



Series: Become The Beast [2]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, Darkish Bruce later, Insane Ecco, Insane Jeremiah, M/M, Manipulation, Obsessive Behavior, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possessive Behavior, Rating May Change, besotted Jeremiah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:09:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26911924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeafOfTrees/pseuds/LeafOfTrees
Summary: Jeremiah might have a vision for a new Gotham, but he’s not about to let people who have hurt Bruce, come away unscathed even if they are helping him.Bruce is battling with his inner darkness while trying to sort through his feelings for Jeremiah, who isn’t making it easy.~~~~“You said ‘We will create a legacy in this city, Gotham falls, and we rise, together’ isn’t that what you stated?” Bruce holds eye contact as one hand moves to settle on Jeremiah’s shoulder, the touch warms his frigid body, the bone-deep chill seeping into him as he leans against icy stone.The breath catches in his throat at the contact.“You know it is.”Bruce nods, leaning closer, his sigh fans Jeremiah cheek, and he feels dizzy, his heart beating thunderously.“What is it you want from me, Jeremiah?” the ring of his name falling from Bruce’s lips is almost too much.
Relationships: Jeremiah Valeska/Bruce Wayne
Series: Become The Beast [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1944361
Comments: 18
Kudos: 60





	1. All I do is for you.

**Author's Note:**

> So part two is here, this chapter is pretty much just Jeremiah, I’ve put the limit to three chapters, but it may yet change. This all takes place from the end of series 4 episode 21 (minus Selina getting stabbed) and will go into episode 22.
> 
> I have made some changes, to fit where I’m taking this story. The main thing here is Selina not getting stabbed.
> 
> Hopefully there aren’t too many errors, I edited a few times but may have become blind to any further errors - so apologies.

Jeremiah is baffled, annoyed and tirelessly sifting through explanation after explanation of how his bombs had failed, “think, think, think, think, think.”he mutters wracking his brain, “how did they beat you huh, how did they figure you out?”it’s been a repeated mantra for the last hour, it had all been going so smoothly, so perfectly.

The bombs failing had been a disappointment though he only found he was mildly irritated over this in the shadow of recent events, Bruce, he smiled, Bruce was his.

Bruce wanted him as much as he wanted Bruce, the realisation left him reeling, ecstatic and utterly lovesick. 

Bruce had been worried about him over the phone when he’d been confronted with Oswald Cobblepot and his little entourage of criminals. It had made his heart flutter. Their attempts to blackmail him might have proven amusing had they not interrupted his time with Bruce.

He casts pale eyes down once again, on the papers and blueprints spread out before him, trust, Jim Gordon to thwart his meticulously thought out plans, it seemed Jeremiah could agree with Jerome’s written statements on the subject of Jim Gordon at least.

Jim Gordon was harder to kill than a cockroach. 

Similarly Jim’s ability to avoid death had worked more in his favour if he’s being honest with himself and free the butler too, had been a wise decision,the only downside to failing in his attempt to kill Jim Gordon was that he’d had to purge himself of Jerome’s fickle followers, but, ah, Bruce...beautiful, wonderful, magnificent, perfect Bruce had been jovial upon hearing the news that Jim Gordon had survived.

Bruce was happy and far more receiving of Jeremiah’s affections—every phone call he’d made Bruce had answered, every conversation with Jeremiah had been welcomed by Bruce. Despite being thwarted Jeremiah couldn’t be happier when it came to the ever blossoming relationship he was building with Bruce.

Back to the dilemma at hand.There was really only one explanation that made sense to him.

“Hmm, Gordon must have stolen the blueprints to the maze, found one of the bombs and sabotaged the sequence.”it was rather impressive if he was being honest. “I’ll have to start again.”the hairs on the back of his neck prickle, his instincts alerting him to another presence within the abandoned theatre.

He feigns being unaware of their presence.

“You’re tenacious. I like that.”The voice echoes, it’s not familiar to his ears and he reaches for his gun, Jeremiah isn’t keen on entertaining an uninvited guest with the exception of course, being Bruce Wayne.

“Who are you? What do you want?”

“I had a vision of Gotham in flames.”he rolls his eyes while firing off a few shots, the shadow that had been there moments before seemingly disappears into thin air, did he think his little act could unnerve Jeremiah? This person, whoever it was, clearly didn’t realise Jeremiah had been born into the circus and spent his time growing up around magicians, soothsayers and charlatans among other things. “Together we could make that happen.”

“Well, I appreciate the offer, however recent events have convinced me the benefits to working alone.”or with Bruce by his side, but that might be a long time coming, though a man could still dream. 

The intruder vanishes for the second time, he shoots despite knowing he’ll miss, irked by the tedium of the man little show,“don’t be so rash, your dream of a new Gotham will come to be.”Hmm, clearly this man knew nothing of Jeremiah's dreams, Gotham was simply part of his plan to outdo his brother, where Jerome failed, Jeremiah certainly would not.

His dreams however, were centred around a certain brunette, the keeper of his heart.

“With my help, of course.”Jeremiah sighs, resigned, why can’t he just be left in peace? He lowers his gun.

“You’re behind me, aren’t you?”Of course he was, how typical, such a performance just for him, he’d be flattered if he didn’t find it to be such an annoyance, this man could offer him nothing, Jeremiah did not already possess. “I can conquer Gotham on my own, what makes you think I need your help...whoever you are?”he turns to face the stranger, a tall man, holding himself with a regality as though he thought himself of high importance.

“Because my boy, this is not just about Gotham,”he walks steadily nearer, “this is about Bruce Wayne.”Jeremiah stares at him, his mind reeling, who is this man? he thinks and what exactly does he want with his dearest?

“You never did tell me your name,”he says, narrowing his eyes. “If we are to discuss the possibility of an alliance, isn’t it courteous to first introduce yourself?”

“Forgive me, my name is Ra’s al Ghul.”now that piqued his interest as Jeremiah recalled consoling Bruce, what felt like so long ago, before their confrontation in the cemetery. He remembered Bruce had been upset because his little girlfriend had lead him into a trap, he’d been restrained, his blood used unwillingly to resurrect a man named Ra’s al Ghul, Bruce had then gone on to explain how Ra’s had relentlessly tormented, kidnapped and made Bruce’s life miserable for a time.

Bruce had confessed to killing this man, because only he could do so, Ra’s al Ghul could only die at Bruce’s hand, and wasn’t there something else regarding a specific blade?

Something to look into further, he thinks, he’ll have Ecco do some investigating for him. 

Jeremiah wasn’t penchant to align himself with people who had actively caused harm to someone so dear to his heart, however, his eyes narrow, perhaps Bruce would appreciate the gift of retribution.

A saccharine smile stretches Jeremiah’s lips, “I’m listening.” Is all he says, let him believe he can confide in and trust him whilst Jeremiah plots his next course of action.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Late into that very night Jeremiah cannot help himself, can hardly bear keeping away from Bruce for such extended periods of time, so he decides to snatch a quick glimpse of his dearest, to set himself at ease before he attends to matters at hand.

Jeremiah slips into Wayne Manor easily, for someone so rich, the level of security was laughable. He crept quietly through the halls, knowing Bruce’s bedroom resided on this side of the manor, while his man servant occupied the opposing side.

He stands now obscured in the shadows watching the gentle rise and fall of Bruce’s chest, unsure of how many minutes have actually passed, he’s so caught up in watching Bruce. He’d needed to come here tonight, after Ra’s had reached out to him, Bruce had consumed his everything to the point where he was rendered incapable of anything, other than coming to see his love.

Jeremiah has never been a believer of love at first sight, until he met Bruce Wayne, he was captivated by the mere sight of him and utterly lost by the time Bruce said ‘you have a great mind, Mr Valeska.’ He was past the point of no return with each passing day that Bruce deigned to visit him in the bunker, getting personally involved in Jeremiah’s project...craving Jeremiah's company perhaps as much he had been craving more of Bruce’s time.

He steps from the deep shadows of the room, scattered beans of silvery moonlight glitter through the drapes, illuminating Bruce’s pale complexion, highlighting the peacefulness of his features, he reaches out his fingers in a whispering touch, light and gentle upon a pale cheek, unconsciously Bruce moves into the touch, or perhaps drawn to Jeremiah's warmth. 

“Soon,”he says in a hushed tone, “there will be a reunion, dearest heart of mine.”It's a promise, a retribution and a reunion, and the thought is thrilling.

He fades back into the shadows of Wayne Manor and slips out into the night.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

His plan was rudimentary based on scratchy bits and pieces of information Ecco had managed to collect, at best it would roll out as smoothly as possible, at worst, Jeremiah would gain an enemy of Ra’s al Ghul. Not that such an outcome bothered him. It was thanks to Ecoo’s information that had brought him to The Sirens Club. She had insisted she should join him when confronting Ms Kean, ever loyal and seeking to protect him, she’d vanished before he entered the club and would appear when or if she were needed. 

Barbara Kean was a person of great interest and as Jeremiah had discovered, was just as deeply connected as Bruce to Ra’s al Ghul, it was something Jeremiah could use and counted on as he entered the club, he remembered their last little encounter with a chuckle, the utter horror on their faces as Jeremiah had turned the tables on such a brazen little plot to blackmail him. 

He feels the glares zero in on him as he enters, pinning him in place as the blond turns to face him. Barbara and her little sidekick, Tabitha was it? Are openly hostile to his appearance.

“Why is it all the freaks enjoy congregating in my bar?”

“You want me to see him out?”Tabitha smirks, eyeing Jeremiah up and down, she looks ready for a fight and he smiles wider, nothing can sour his mood, not even Barbara’s pet, he lifts up a hand effectively shushing her, Tabitha’s fury is palpable as she growls, insulated. Jeremiah laughs. “Before you decide to turf me from your establishment, I have some information you may find of value, after all,”he glances to the snarling blond, “you like information, don’t you Ms Kean?”she glares at him but nods for Tabitha to stand down.

“This information of yours...how do I know it’ll be worth my time or having to suffer your presence in my bar?”

Jeremiah lifts a brow offering a shrug, “you’ll have to take a leap of faith...you’ll want to hear what I have to say.” He saunters closer his eyes alight with a wicked gleam.

The corner of Barbara’s lips tilts as she saunters forward, closing the distance slightly, the clicking of her heels echoing around them, “thanks for the offer, freak, but I think I’ll pass.” Out from the shadows of the bars' sidelines steps a band of darkly clad women aiming their weapons at Jeremiah, he takes another step glancing either side of him.

“Huh, I guess you got me again.” He titles his head, a wicked smile stretching his lips, “or perhaps not.”Ecco, steps out from the shadows appearing behind Barbara, a pistol aimed at the blonds temple.

“Call off your dogs or I’ll put a hole in your head.”Ecco hisses in Barbara’s ear. “Aren’t you glad I joined you Boss?”she asks, throwing Jeremiah a glance, she bats her eyelids issuing a high pitched laugh.

What would he do without her?

“So dependable, my dear Ecco...it’s such a shame Ms Kean isn’t open to polite exchanges,”huffing a long suffering sigh Jeremiah brushes dust from his sleeve, “but I’m sure Ra’s will pay you a visit, at some point…”he turns on his heels intending to leave until…

“...wait.”he smiles, knowing dropping a little hint would leave her wanting more, he turns again to face the blond with a raised brow.

“Yes, Ms Kean?”

Her expression is pained as if she hates herself for having to ask Jeremiah to elaborate, “you’ve met Ra’s al Ghul?”

He inclines his head in a slight nod, “indeed, it seems he believes our interests align.”

A blond eyebrow lifts and she throws Ecco an irritated glance but nods to the females around the room, they stand down and move away from Jeremiah but make no move to leave the near vicinity. He signals Ecco to stand down and she joins him at his side, flashing Barbara a sweet smile.

“And...do your interests align?”

He shrugs, “in one sense yes, in another, not anymore...he’s repeatedly harmed someone very dear to me,”his expression becomes wistful as Bruce enters his thoughts, Barbara and Tabitha share a glance, their expression pinched, uncomfortable almost, as if Jeremiah unnerved them. “Then again so did you.”Those eerie, pale green eyes swing to Tabitha, he was sure Bruce had named Tabitha as the one who’d tricked his little friend into leading him into the trap that had brought about Ra’s resurrection.

“What the hell are you talking about? Who? When?”Tabitha demands.

Both women watch, becoming more uncomfortable as Ecco begins swaying to the background music, gently bobbing her head, things become even weirder when Jeremiah begins to have a conversation with himself.

“Mmm does it matter?...yes...no, perhaps, ah...water under the bridge, for now, for now...yes—hahaha.”even Barbara’s Shadows shuffle in discomfort, it was quite evident Jeremiah Valeska might possibly be madder than his brother, the woman exchange a further look and Barbara shrugs recovering from the weirdness of the situation.

“Mr Valeska?”

He whips his head toward the blond, his expression slightly manicle before he recovers himself, “Ms Kean, we can help each other, you have something that can end Ra’s al Ghul…”

“The dagger, right? There’s only one teeny tiny problem when it comes to ending Ra’s”she lifts her hands to enunciate with her finger and thumb.

“Yes, I know...I can help with that, things are currently in motion that will lead to Ra’s al Ghul and Bruce Wayne, coming together, in the same place…”he looks to Barbara with a wide smile, “all you need to know is the time and the place.”

Barbara looks thoughtful, hands on her hips as she strolls forward, “and what’s in it for me?”

Jeremiah offers a knowing look, “it’s simple, you get your revenge on Ra’s al Ghul and you’ll no longer need to look over your shoulder, worrying when he’ll suddenly drop by for a friendly visit.”he closes the gap between them so they are standing shoulder to shoulder and speaks quietly into her ear, “you’ll be free.”

Her eyes are alight and a smile playing on her lips, Barbara leans in, “and what do you get out of all this?”she queries, with open curiosity.

They share a look, “everything I want and need.”is the cryptic answer she receives. “You go your way and I’ll go my own, no one needs to know about this minuscule alliance, my lips will be sealed.”he lifts a finger to his lips and mimics the action of zipping them shut.

The blond takes a few minutes of silence, to appear contemplative but Jeremiah knows what her answer will be, he’s known since the moment she called him back, the opportunity to end Ra’s al Ghul, permanently, was too good for Barbara to pass up, he’d counted on her need to be free of his shadow.

Finally she steps back to face him and holds out her hand, “you’ve got yourself a deal freak.” The handshake is brief and Barbara saunters back to the bar to pour herself a drink, “now, why don’t you walk me through the details.”

Jubilant, Jeremiah smirks, “gladly Ms Kean.”


	2. Chapter two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As a new Gotham unfolds, Bruce make a life changing decision and Jeremiah has never been happier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I’m so sorry for such a long wait. There were kinks I needed to figure out before I continued. But here is the next instalment and I hope you guys enjoy.
> 
> Jeremiah is pretty intense in this chapter, as usual.

**_I scare myself_ **

**_With the way that I need you_ **

**_There's no one else_ **

**_Tell me that you can feel it too_ **

**_I'd crawl through hell_ **

**_If it meant that I could keep you_ **

**_~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~_ **

There is pain, fury and chaos swirling around him as he remains engaged by the sight of the bridges breaking apart amid explosions. Sound has flooded out around him, his focus is now on the blazes- great burning beacons lighting up the metropolis captivating all who hadn’t escaped the city and likely the evacuees on the opposing side, their homes in tatters, loved one's left behind- trapped within the darkened island Gotham has turned into.

He feels it now; the darkness roiling beneath his skin, curving his palms into fists — his nails sinking into his flesh, Bruce feels divided between what he needs to do and what he craves to do. The ashes, remains of Ra’s Al Ghul sit in a heap at his feet. Finally...finally the man was dead, surely this would be his ultimate death, and he’d no longer be a shadow at Bruce’s back, the brunette knew that had been Jeremiah’s gift—oh he didn’t doubt Jeremiah relished destroying the bridges, regardless of whose design it was; Ra’s or Jeremiah’s, perhaps devised by them both. 

Barbara, Alfred, Tabitha and Oswald are all staring at the bridges as they break apart one by one from the blasts. They are all in astonished silence, eyes unable to leave the scene of Gotham being cut off from the mainland. Bruce frees his bound hands, the ropes falling to his feet, disturbing the ashes as they fall with a thump. 

From the edge of his view he sees Jeremiah scuttle away, no doubt about to launch a swift escape, it takes seconds for Bruce to come to a flash resolution, there was not a chance in hell he was letting Jeremiah escape, Bruce needs answers, he needs to make Jeremiah pay for what he’s done to Gotham, and he truly wants to kiss him for his part in Ra’s death—Bruce’s emotions were screwed up when it came to Jeremiah Valeska— destroying the bridges he believes was due to Ra’s influence which had steered Jeremiah’s hand.

Partnering up with Ra’s, Bruce thinks might very well be his own fault, he recalls revealing everything about Ra’s; what he’d done to Bruce, how he’d threatened to rip away everything he loved if Bruce refused him… How he had been used to resurrect Ra’s. In Jeremiah’s own twisted way this was a gift for Bruce.

In Jeremiah’s eyes it was a show of his friendships and devotion to the brunette.

And Bruce would be lying if he said he wasn’t just a tiny bit touched by the gesture, despite himself.

“Bruce?” he hears Alfred’s drained, distressed voice and it tugs at his heart, but his mind is made up... there’s nothing Alfred can say to alter it. 

From now on Bruce sees this is the dawn of a new Gotham, soon it would be everybody for themselves and damn it all—he should stick around and help, he should—but he feels the constantly gnawing compulsion to follow and contain Jeremiah. In his mind Bruce is rationalising his resolution that Jeremiah is dangerous. If Bruce can intercept him it will be one less headache for others to handle. 

Bruce knows he’s likely the only person Jeremiah might stop for.

And perhaps there was a somewhat selfish reasoning behind his decision. It didn’t help that his loyalties were stretched because his feelings for Jeremiah ruled him. There was no talking himself out of it, he was too caught up in the web now.

He walks away from the group examining the havoc wrought upon Gotham, his eyes briefly meet Alfred’s, he sees the realisation flash across his face, the man who’s been nothing but a father for him, who’s supported him even when they hadn’t agreed on every course Bruce has strayed upon, Alfred knew this for what it is... a goodbye.

This is one of those moments when Bruce stubbornly sticks by his choice. There’s nothing Alfred can say or do to change that. Because despite the endless time’s he’s struggled against it, Ra’s had been correct, there was darkness deeply seated within Bruce and warring against it was becoming tiring.

Battling against his affections for Jeremiah is exhausting him too. He needs to take some control in the dynamic between them... Jeremiah wanted Bruce and so he would get Bruce.

He starts to follow Jeremiah, to pursue him, catch him before he disappears. Bruce doesn’t glance back, seeks to force away the fact he wants Jeremiah in a manner he shouldn’t. Feelings that have blossomed over months of pouring of designs and blueprints and contracts.

His first priority is ensuring Jeremiah causes no further destruction to Gotham. His second priority is making sure Jeremiah is okay because Bruce was positive he’d been shot.

As he turns to depart from the warehouse his thoughts stumble over the times he and Jeremiah had spent together nights and days that would blur together as they talked and talked and talked, he recalls the sense of speculating what Jeremiah would do if he just reached across the short distance between them and stole a kiss.

He’s still unable to shake the ghost of Jeremiah’s lips against his own as Bruce tackled him in the cemetery.

It all seems like very long ago and by rights with everything Jeremiah has since done to him, to his loved ones and to Gotham...Bruce should despise him thoroughly.

He absolutely should, but he doesn’t, Bruce doesn’t think he can hate him if he tries, as would be expected of him.

Bruce offers Alfred a tight smile before shifting away and dashing in the direction he last saw Jeremiah heading towards, he is wounded so hopefully that should limit his pace, it doesn’t really matter as Bruce is determined to locate him regardless of how long it takes.

He won’t quit.

He ignores Alfred calling out his name as he follows the path Jeremiah took, practically tumbling down the staircase in his haste, He enters the darkened streets of Gotham, it’s so quiet—as if the cities remaining inhabitants are holding their breath, trepidation slithers down his spine— it won’t be long before individuals are forming factions and gangs, soon enough Bruce knows fighting will begin, a war to decide territories within the city. He picks up his pace searching the streets and alleyways, his dark eyes darting through every nook and cranny, he can’t have gotten far Bruce is confident he should have been right on his tail.

His mind whirls as the exploration goes on, deliberating over what he’ll do when he finds Jeremiah—he needed to establish a plan. Finding shelter seemed like a likely course of action, building stores maybe? If war broke out among the criminals, as he thought it would, then fighting over food and medical supplies would no doubt start after territory claims. He presses on swifter and quicker, his breathing coming in great heaving pants he doesn’t know what the future holds any more, he’s driven by his infatuation with Jeremiah, he knows he’s leaving behind his friends, his family but perhaps it was for the best anyway because if he’s being sincere with himself, he’s not certain who he is any more, assuredly not how they view him, how could he be something good with so much darkness hidden within him?

Alfred has spent so long sheltering him, caring for him , protecting him from those who would cause Bruce harm, Alfre has even had to resort to safeguarding Bruce from himself at times, the occasions when Bruce cared more for developing his strengths than caring for his safety. 

He owes Alfred so much for all he’s given for him, perhaps by following this path he was also granting Alfred freedom to choose his own, new pathway in life.

He could take care of himself now, the decisions he made from this moment onwards, they would be his own.

So, he rushes through the gloom of Gotham ceaselessly looking for signs of Jeremiah.

It seems rather unbelievable, Bruce thinks as he strides through the dark, that of all the things Jeremiah has done, the betrayal of their friendship should sting the most. If that wasn’t a convincing signal that something was awry with Bruce Wayne, that he was perhaps as troubled as Jeremiah — then he didn’t know what was.

Because it certainly was alarming. From the moment he’d set eyes on Jeremiah the redhead had been a constant in Bruce’s thoughts. A deep chuckle bubbles forth from his lips. It was becoming apparent that he was just as infatuated with Jeremiah, as Jeremiah was with him.

‘You are my very best friend.’

He was going to use that, Bruce counts on Jeremiah’s culminating obsession with him, and he will apply it to his ends, shift away Gotham as the focus and dominate every minute of Jeremiah’s time, he will deceive and manipulate if that’s what it will take...in protecting those he loves.

And having a little of what Bruce wants for himself.

The surrounding cityscape is uncannily silent, a calm before the storm perhaps as people crawl into the shadows, into hiding, a deep breath before the chaos bound to arise in the impending days and weeks.

Bruce can sense the uneasiness in the air, taste the bitter tension upon his tongue as he trudges along the darkened street, hands tucked inside his pockets, too absorbed within his spiralling thoughts to be concerned for his safety.

‘In fact, you are my very best friend.’ 

Yes, thinks Bruce as he shifts down a side street, that’s precisely what we will be.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

There’s an elegance in the obscurity settled over Gotham, in the stillness that has long since veiled the metropolis, a heavy sigh before the beautiful Jeremiah reflects as he settles against the frigid wall of an alley. 

Everything has worked out magnificently, Gotham is now a dark island. A wistful sigh slides through his lips as his mind shifts to Bruce.

It was all for Bruce, all of it. 

There is nothing he would not do for Bruce Wayne. 

He grasps at his injured arm, hardly registering the stinging discomfort and slips down the wall to the floor a gleeful grin on his face. His mind reeling, preoccupied by thoughts centred on one individual, Bruce, Bruce, Bruce.

He could die overjoyed with the name on his tongue.

“What was it you expressed to me before you blew up the bridges?” Jeremiah freezes, heart throbbing as Bruce’s voice reaches him through the shadows, warmth blooms in his chest. 

Bruce has pursued him, through all the pandemonium reigning down upon Gotham, Bruce has abandoned even his companions to accompany him into the dark.

This was the happiest day of his life. He feels euphoric as his eyes scrutinize the shadows eventually settling on Bruce as he walks forward. 

“Bruce.” The name is a prayer from his lips.

Bruce taps a restless foot awaiting the answer to his query and Jeremiah inhales a breath, savoring the air around him laden with Bruce’s presence. It’s exquisite and heady, and he feels drunk as he becomes the focus of all Bruce’s scrutiny.

“Have you forgotten then? I don’t suppose you have, how could you disregard any of our encounters?” he hasn’t, he never could forget, each encounter, each moment consumed with Bruce has been rooted into his consciousness Jeremiah made certain of it, did Bruce also treasure each memory they experienced between them? Oh! how he yearned to learn the innermost thoughts of Bruce Wayne.

He delights in those moments. Did Bruce also cling to them? Jeremiah was hungry to gain such insight from Bruce, Jeremiah will reach above and beyond to experience moments with Bruce that the brunette will treasure—he is determined to ensure he and Bruce are connected in every manner conceivable until they become so entangled one cannot continue without the other. 

His mind has strayed and in that time Bruce has inched closer, when Jeremiah focuses his thoughts and surfaces from the images in his mind Bruce is kneeling before him, his lovely eyes locked on his face.

“You said ‘We will create a legacy in this city, Gotham falls, and we rise, together’ isn’t that what you stated?” Bruce holds eye contact as one hand moves to settle on Jeremiah’s shoulder, the touch warms his frigid body, the bone-deep chill seeping into him as he leans against icy stone.

The breath catches in his throat at the contact.

“You know it is.”

Bruce nods, leaning closer, his sigh fans Jeremiah cheek, and he feels dizzy, his heart beating thunderously.

“What is it you want from me, Jeremiah?” the ring of his name falling from Bruce’s lips is almost too much.

He realises what Bruce is doing, occupying his personal space to distract him. He laughs delightedly—loving every moment— glancing over Bruce again with renewed understanding.

There is something extraordinary about Bruce Wayne, something fascinating, dark and alluring. He moves, so they are mere breaths apart, his pearly eyes alight with a fresh delirium.

“You know what I want, Bruce, for you to be the very strongest version of yourself... free to be yourself” he licks as his parched lip, “without fear of judgment... I won’t ever turn away from you, no matter what you become... I would move the Earth if you request it of me. You’re my best friend.” There’s a tenderness to those smoldering eyes as Bruce surveys him, he can see his mind working as he chews at his bottom lip, that action delectable in itself has Jeremiah leaning forward, bracing his uninjured arm against stone to haul himself up.

“I know what you did, manipulating Ra’s... that was a gift for me wasn’t it?” Bruce asks, edging closer his eyes burning pools, Jeremiah almost slips back down the wall under his intense stare.

“Yes... did you like it?” he breathes, anticipating Bruce’s answer. His mind is cheering because only Bruce could see his actions for what they were; a present for him, an offering, a show of the devotion Jeremiah will always, always have for him.

Bruce is different tonight, powerful, intoxicating. It's causing Jeremiah to struggle to breathe, his heart is thumping so rapidly, and he thirsts to reach out, to touch, to savor... take, take, take.

Mine, mine, mine, his mind is singing.

But Bruce, oh Bruce, forces him to wait for his answer—drawing out his suffering as he steps closer.

“If I answer no, then I would be lying.” he confesses, dipping his head, “why did you destroy the bridges?” a hint of anger lines his tone.

Jeremiah tilts his chin, “a necessary sacrifice.” gaining Ra’s confidence had been paramount to his design, and perhaps he could have deactivated the explosives, could have stopped it, but where was the entertainment in that? And hadn’t such destruction only brought Jeremiah and Bruce closer? He flashes a devilish grin, “I told you before that progress requires sacrifice.” it sparks Bruce’s displeasure as he knew it would, and he’s forced back against the stone wall as Bruce strikes out with his fist.

Any kiss from Bruce was exquisite, even a kiss with a fist, he’d take them all greedily. A giggle slips past his lips, “oh Bruce...you never disappoint.” His laughter bubbles into a fit as Bruce hits him repeatedly, this time Jeremiah counters, dealing a blow to the brunette’s face, knocking Bruce off balance. His eyes drinking in the flush of bruising along his jaw...magnificent, Jeremiah’s mark, the first of many he yearns to lavish upon him.

“Gotham is my city Jeremiah, I take your attack personally.” of course he did, beautiful, protective Bruce whose heart belonged to the very metropolis that would gladly swallow him whole. They exchange a few more fist kisses before they both slide against the wall, panting for air.

Blood dribbles down Bruce’s chin from a split lip. The look is quite alluring to Jeremiah. 

“We need to find someplace to stay, before the city erupts into a war zone.” Bruce puffs, chest heaving, Jeremiah turns his head toward him, they are side by side battered and bruised from their own little dance.

“We could stick around and enjoy the spectacle... aren’t you curious to discover how it unfolds?” he was and with Bruce by his side to witness the disorder, he shivers because the moment would be all the better. They could pinpoint a high building to look down upon the kingdom they’d created.

“I think you’ve had enough excitement for one day.” he snorts at the remark, “any more and you might burst.” a bruised hand clutches his forearm and Bruce pulls them both to their feet. “Let’s locate somewhere we can secure, clean ourselves up, and while everybody else fights it out…” Bruce looks to the surrounding buildings, “we make a supply run.” Jeremiah is giddy again, Bruce has undoubtedly thought this through—this was not a snap last-minute decision as he’d presumed—how long had he been speculating about coming to Jeremiah? 

“Precious, the excitement has only just begun.” he grins as they begin their search of the city.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five months on from the collapse of the Bridges m, Jeremiah and Bruce’s relationship has bloomed, both are utterly lovesick with the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are, I know it’s been too long and then suddenly I update two stories in one day! That progress :) anyway here’s the final chapter of part two of the series. With part three to follow soon.
> 
> Warnings: unhealthy relationship, lovesickness, mature content ( nothing too graphic) Bruce and Jeremiah are pretty intense and ‘into’ each other in this chapter.
> 
> Please excuse any errors, I have combed through it - but it’s very late and my eyes are tired XD
> 
> Enjoy! 😉

Follow me to the edge

And follow me into the dream

And dance with me into the star fire

Like tonight is all there is

And make a leap of faith

And don't look down

Follow me to the edge

Passion for our wings

Take my hand

The moment sings

We could fly

If our passion for all this

Follow me to the edge

  
  


*~*~*~*

**Chapter three.**

Gotham no longer a bustling city as it previously was, no, the streets, like a ghost town. Buildings abandoned; left in shambles from raids or taken as refuge by those left behind following the eradication of the bridges. The remaining Gothamites divided into factions that spanned the entire city, among these two zones spanned the largest of all; the Green zone, populated by those remaining from the GCPD and all they offered sanctuary to, the Dark zone inhabited by those less than savoury characters that thronged in large gangs, choosing to terrorise and ravaging the capital of whatever stores they could covet and, also mercilessly guarding the territory they lay claim to.

Only one such group among the Dark zone were avoided, respected and feared above all else, none would dared intrude upon the territory of Jeremiah Valeska, the little church and surrounding area a welcoming home only to those chosen and loyal above all else to Jeremiah. 

A hush settles around the church, the building illuminated by the glow of candlelight casting shadows upon the posters of Jeremiah affixed to the notice board. Each flicker of the flames casting an eerie shadow upon his whitewashed features- enhancing the luminosity of those eerie sea-green eyes.

But if one peered into the darkness, there, atop the building wreathed within the shadows of the night stood a figure blending with the shadows save for the pallor of his face, his inky hair ruffled with the gentle breeze as he looked over the city. Those dwellers of the Dark zone well aware the Prince of Gotham’s elite was not to be touched, dangerous in his own right, of course, but they knew full well to whom they would answer should any harm befall Bruce Wayne.

Jeremiah Valeska would be unforgiving in his wrath. The mere thought of inciting the mad man’s fury kept them at bay. Bruce Wayne belonged to Jeremiah, by his side; a prince of the Dark zone beside Jeremiah’s status as King.

——

The cool breeze kissed at his exposed skin, his clothes were dark enough to blend in with the shade of night, but he knew the paleness of his skin likely gave away his position against the inky backdrop. It didn’t matter Jeremiah would know where to find him anyway, this was Bruce’s favourite spot; allowing him the vast view of Gotham, enabling him a glimpse toward the Green zone, to his family, his friends — those he’d chosen to leave behind months ago.

Guilt and shame twisted his stomach. More so because the last five months had been so, so wonderful, freeing, invoking feelings Bruce had never felt before. The pressures everyone continuously piled upon him were no more — Jeremiah expected nothing of him. 

For the first time in a long, long while Bruce’s eyes were open; how had he missed the way people used him for their gain? His blindness, thankfully lifted. And though he missed Alfred immensely Bruce refused his demand that he return with him to the Green Zone. His place now was at Jeremiah’s side — they didn’t know nor would they care to understand this was his last act of kindness bestowed to them, keeping Jeremiah from hurting the city he loved further, leading his attention away from the remaining citizens...away from his family and friends.

They either couldn’t or simply wouldn’t see, time and again they had come, pleading with him — insisting Jeremiah had poisoned his mind, insisting the mad man had twisted Bruce against them — how little they cared to listen, to understand Bruce’s choices.

To respect his own decisions, to allow him the freedom he so desperately sought.

It seemed everyone tried to change him, to mould him into something of their vision — their imaginings of how, of what Bruce should become. Ra’s had even gone so far as to threaten the people he loved, to twist Bruce into a mindless husk. He could stand the thought of it no longer. Jeremiah had asked nothing of him in the time they’d been together, not only that but he’d offered Bruce the freedom from Ra’s daunting shadow on a silver platter.

His heart swelled at the memory, oh, he hated himself for killing Ra’s for a second time. Ending someone’s life didn’t sit well with Bruce, but what choices had he ultimately been left with, in the end?

“Perhaps I should have Ecco place a bench here for you, precious.” Bruce fought the smile tugging at his lips, refraining from turning to glance at Jeremiah’s luminous gaze.

“It’s peaceful here,” he answers, warming when Jeremiah brushes against his back, arms circling his waist — chin resting upon Bruce’s shoulder- the act comforting in a way Bruce had yearned for these long years. 

“Dear heart, why do you look so unhappy?”

Bruce twisted around to face Jeremiah, bringing their foreheads together almost nose to nose, breathing in the familiar, comforting scent of the man he loved beyond measure.

“Because I feel as if our bubble is about to burst,” Bruce could feel the inevitable on the horizon, the mainland as far as they knew were refuting to aid those left behind in Gotham, but still, Jim Gordon chose to fight them to ensure reunification could take place. 

And with reunification Bruce knew Jeremiah would be hunted down to answer for his crimes, to face justice and though he knew, Bruce knew it was the right thing, justice being served — he couldn’t stand the thought of not being by Jeremiah’s side, of having Jeremiah carted away and locked up in Arkham.

Or worse...but he refused to even think about that scenario. 

But in the same breath, Bruce couldn’t bring himself to even consider sabotaging Jim’s efforts for reunification — it would be selfish to do so, especially when so many innocent people deserved reunions with their families, deserved food in their bellies and medical aid.

He couldn’t even consider it an option.

Bruce shivered against the silky feel of Jeremiah’s gloved fingers trailing his jaw, the touch soft but with a little extra pressure as if Jeremiah still feared Bruce would slip away at any moment. Leaning into the touch Bruce releases a contented sigh.

“I’m overthinking things.”

“I can help with that.” Jeremiah murmurs, his lips brushing across Bruce’s neck, teeth gently skimming across his skin, “let me be a distraction.” hands firmly grip the brunette's hips, pulling him flush against Jeremiah's body.

Breathlessly Bruce melts against him, his hands pulling at his lapels, his heart drumming against his ribs — as Jeremiah begins peppering kisses up along his jaw before claiming Bruce's lips heated, greedy, murmuring sweet lovesick nothing's that make Bruce dizzy and heated. Both, uncaring of standing on the rooftop in plain sight of anyone that may be travelling the near vicinity. Eager hands fiddle with shirt buttons to access more of each other — Bruce trails his tongue along Jeremiah's neck, his collarbone, down across his firm chest, over his nipples, drawing little gasps and breathy moans, pale fingers comb into Bruce’s hair lightly tugging. Skimming his teeth against Jeremiah’s abdomen drew sounds that electrified Bruce on the inside. his nails tracing circles along Jeremiah's hips.

“Oh, Bruce…” the grip in his hair tightened, stinging and yet Bruce groaned deep in his throat, nipping at Jeremiah’s pale hip. “So perfect...so perfect, so precious.” a breathless litany as his fingers comb roughly through Bruce's curls, each little tug a bite of pleasure laced pain “Tell me this is real Bruce, tell me, tell me.” a desperate plea, always the same. As if the beautiful man before him couldn't accept Bruce had chosen him. 

Between quick presses of his lips, Bruce Offers him reassurance “it's real, I'm here...I'm yours...you are mine.” murmuring the words, again and again, sucking at Jeremiah’s skin, leaving a deep bruise, licking over the mark before lifting his eyes to meet Jeremiah’s, “to remind you.” so he would see the bruise and know this was real, not the imaginings of his mind. 

The insanity spray had certainly done its job, it's grip tightening with each passing day. All Bruce could do was watch Jeremiah’s mind splinter away piece by piece and his heart ached -- so he pulled him closer, his kisses becoming more heated, laced with desperation to assure Jeremiah that he was here and going nowhere, he would never again walk away from the man before him.

They exchange whispered murmurs, hearts beating frantically, lost in the echo of each other, heated bodies pressing closer, closer, becoming tangled in lipstick kisses and soft butterfly touches - a dance of their own making upon the rooftop, against the starry backdrop. Jeremiah lavishes Bruce with kisses at each corner of his mouth, pressing quick kisses on his nose, his eyelids, his forehead whispering all the while words of reverence and adoration - leaving Bruce breathless, heedy and damn right lovesick himself. 

Bruce finds his back hitting the stone wall, Jeremiah pinning him in place - bracing a knee between his legs, hands roving along his thighs drawing needy mews from the brunette, teeth scrape across skin before lips suck along his collarbone leaving a trail of marks, little claiming bruises sparking molten heat to broil to the surface, his erection strains against his pants and trailing a hand Bruce is satisfied to feel Jeremiah’s own arousal.

“You, Bruce, are magnificent.”the pure adoration in Jeremiah’s tone is nearly the brunettes undoing, his breath hitches catching sight of pale cheeks dusted with colour, the pupils of those luminous eyes fully blown, lips swollen as they press against Bruce’s, “you complete me Bruce, utterly, irrevocably.” He feels it too, that sense that they belonged, he grinds up against the green eyed man, each point of contact energising making him feel so alive. 

“You feel it as strongly as I do, don’t you Miah.”Bruce whispers in his ear, Jeremiah sucks in a sharp breath, shuddering against him “the connection between us, tell me you feel it.”Jeremiah trembles under his touch, his breathing becoming erratic as Bruce’s words sink in an echo of words he’d once nearly uttered himself.

“I feel it Bruce,” he palms Bruce’s hardness reaching past the waistband until he feels the silky skin and stokes lovingly, firmly drawing hisses and groans from Bruce, “we are meant to be, you and I,” his strokes quicken as Bruce comes undone, “only I understand you truly, deeply...only I understand what you need, what you want…” red lips pepper desperate wet kisses to every inch of Bruce’s face, his lips, his cheeks as Bruce squirms, grinding against him harder, consumed by everything that is Jeremiah.

Perhaps it wasn’t exactly healthy to fall so deeply in love that Bruce feared now losing, now living without Jeremiah - maybe having finally given in to his own wants and impulses - maybe Bruce had lost just a little bit more of his sanity. His fingers grip, digging into Jeremiah’s skin, marking the pale flesh, drawing a hiss of pleasure / pain from his lover. “You know I love you, don’t you Miah?” He shudders with each stroke of Jeremiah's hand, lulling him closer to climax, but he manages to meet intensely burning green eyes, “I’m not sure I could bear to be without you.” He bites at his lips as heat builds and builds within his core with each sensual stroke, reaching with his fingers to trail pale cheeks and swollen red lips, knowing and loving in the same moment that he’ll be smothered in red lipstick. Jeremiah releases a breath sucking Bruce’s fingers into his warm, wet mouth causing a moan to bubble free from both their throats.

“Oh precious, I love you too...so, so much” he pants coming undone just as Bruce reaches his release, resting their foreheads together, sharing breath - both deeply lost with the other's gaze.

This was what Bruce feared losing and with each passing day the fear has built and built until he could ignore it no longer.

It was time to venture out from the safety of the church, enter the Green Zone and discover exactly how far measures for reunification had reached, he would ask Ecco to accompany him.

But tomorrow...for the remainder of tonight he needed to spend with Jeremiah, by his side, in his arms - basking in his warmth and beauty. Because he still couldn’t shake the feeling of something cataclysmic looming on the horizon as if these last few months had been the calm before the storm. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics from the song ‘Follow Me’ by Lange


End file.
